


Late

by orphan_account



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, I was informed this qualifies as, M/M, canonverse, feat. kisses and bathtubs and kisses in bathtubs, idk man, im the worst tagger man idk, it's literally just Magnus being exhausted as hell and Alec having waited up, so that's that, taking care of each other and being boyfriends and shit wtf, wanting to be good to him bc Magnus bane deserves the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 09:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10806090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Magnus had an awfully long day and Alec's being a boyfriend of a quality bordering that of a husband.





	Late

In the pebbled moonlight shining cold death from black sky and barely any streetlights on, the walkway turned a ghost street, eerie and empty and lonely. Possibly dangerous, yet even in this state, for anyone but him.  
With the wall of night city noise a dismissed constant not reaching his ears through the afterwork buzz, monotone and dull like stone to blade, Magnus quickened his step, lodging into something hurried, longing to finally get home forcing his feet forward. In the wake of shivers, he turned up the high collar of his woolen coat against the cutting wind and sped on; his hands, as if by own accord, returned to his pockets promptly and closed around an item each - his phone in the one and a small month-old token from a Japanese shop, in the other.

A warlock meeting didn’t usually last this long and he preferred to open a portal back home but there’s been too many clients tonight.  
Too many vampires asking for blood cleansing of amounts too large to carry and seelies requesting charms performed on site requiring excessive travel within their realms and that one nasty werewolf bite on one of Luke’s men, a deep thing of infection from canine fangs huge like daggers and not nearly as sharp; a tear more than a slice that needed immediate healing and allowed no time to gather any substitute ingredients from home. So he’d had to summon them, which in itself didn’t exhaust as much but did so if combined with long distances as the only places he could find the right kind of seasoned root of knitwood this time of year were a few thousand miles south and communication via summoning magic was a messy business.  
Magnus closed his eyes for a second and inhaled the sharp cold air, helping him clear his nose of the smell of blood suddenly hanging in the air as it had hours ago, and his mind of drowsiness. All those requests - only a good half of which was paid for already which meant at least another hour of drafting bills tonight (a noise of disagreement left him here without him noticing it had risen and he laughed bitterly since the only thing he wanted tonight was a certain mouth and to fall back into a huge pile of _softness_ )…  
And then that several-hour-long class on poison magic and its copious ad- and disadvantages. He sure had promised Catarina and he’d gladly helped out educate the young warlocks spezializing in and studying up on healing magic by taking evening courses at the hospital and yet - he couldn’t even properly enjoy the feeling of a good day’s work done. Having kissed Catarina’s cheek for goodbyes and ignoring her raised brow barely containing the steel set jaw when leaving using one of the earlier prepared portals leading out into the night streets of Brooklyn, he had to admit: he was simply…exhausted.

The entrance lobby was highly welcome warmth after the chilly early December air, enclosing like an embrace, making his face tingle and bringing up a need that made him lose his step and almost stumble, feeling slow and pulled thin like a smear of color on parchment, a stretched out rubber band losing elasticity, a frame full of tired bones and whatever this day had left of him.  
Grateful for the support, Magnus leaned back against the railing inside one of the empty elevators - it was past mindnight after all (or later still? he had lost sense of time and raising a hand to catch a glimpse of it on his golden gleaming wrist seemed as effortful as parting the Sea) - reclined his head to the wall, closed his eyes, waited. Moments passed in silence and only belatedly did he notice that they weren’t moving at all.  
As it turned out, for good reason: he had neglected to push any button and now failed entirely to find it in himself to be even so much as disappointed. Pressing in top floor with a small sigh, Magnus rolled his shoulders and tried to count to 20 in Avestan to keep from slipping and falling asleep as immediately as he felt he might, but his tongue wouldn’t move and his mind wouldn’t focus and so, as the subtly shimmering panes slid in smoothly, he simply slouched back in a rare display of carelessness, hopelessly drained, and just _breathed_.

He almost missed the little ding and glide of the elevator doors opening twenty stories and too few seconds higher even though he kept repeating to himself not to do any such thing. The warmth of the inside had weakened his brain into forgetfulness and his muscles into relaxation and Magnus magically kept the doors from sliding shut on him with the slack gesture of waving off something unwanted; he could feel the cost of that, energy in purest form, pulling away at his very core as if wringing out a towel and shifted uncomfortably in his coat at the sensation and implication thereof.  
The hallway clad in warm woods seemed vacuous and endless instead of charmingly decorated and mere few feet long as usual or maybe - just maybe - his feet really did suddenly weigh a few dozen pounds each.

A hand came to rest on the loft’s front doors as if not his own, detached and inconsequential, outside his control; the rings on his fingers caught the hallway’s warm lights in a low glimmer and for a moment, Magnus regarded them, unfocused, as if a stranger’s, thoughts pulling circles slow like melting butter in a hot pan. Round and round, sorting memories into slots and getting lost in dreams of lips catching his, of a drink in his hand, of closing his eyes to simply _rest_.  
The sensation passed when the lock clicked audibly at his touch, almost too loud in near silence safe for heavy exhales that were his own, and the doors swung open, granting entrance, welcoming him home like a pet too big to do much more.

With a laden sigh and a weariness scratching by pass-out so close he could taste it sour on his tongue, Magnus placed his rarely used brief case on the floor, sliding the unloved item away from the door with the toe of his boot, pulled his phone from coat pocket to place it on the dresser nearby and lifted both hands in unison, head falling back with an inhale that felt like he was sucking all oxygen from the room to sear his throat dry, head spinning dangerously.  
Interrupting an attempt to rub sleepiness from his face, knowing how much work was still to do and wanting nothing else but fall asleep pressed up against his back with his own nose pushed into that dark hair, breathing him in, a yawn rose in Magnus’ throat that he stifled as it clawed its way into existence, unmerciful testament, endless disgrace.  
When he let his hands fall, body agonizing in protest, about to shrug out of his coat and too somnolent to wonder about the obvious, he finally noticed the man leaning in the doorway to the ongoing rooms; arms hugged across to hold onto his own biceps, a tired sort of smile on his face. In all his exhaustion, Magnus hadn’t even heard him approach. Just so, he’d appeared as if out of nowhere, and of all the magical things Magnus had made happen tonight, this was by far the best one. _See him, check_.

“Didn’t notice you there.”

Softly, like a sunset, Alec’s smile disappeared to be exchanged for an expression one could call blank or unreadable if one were not Magnus. Worry drew fine lines along Alec’s mouth and brows, hushed on purpose to be something less than, a stilled kind of concern that couldn’t be entirely quenched, a feeling Magnus knew all too well; heavy black boots dripping mud on his persian rugs at half past four in the morning and heavy black darkness settling like the enemy under Alec’s too bright eyes speaking of sleep deprivation and too much caffeine and heavy black the way seeing him like that made Magnus want to take him away on a month long vacation whilst knowing exactly he could not possibly do any such thing - Alec had his obligations and Magnus, despite what everyone just _loved_ to assume, had enough of his own.  
He didn’t know why he focused on those details out of all when there was so much to take in - habit most likely - but they sat displeasing in his mouth, just because. A few moments passed, a few steps taken like flying and suddenly, Alec was so much nearer and Magnus thought he might have blanked out on the part where Alec actually crossed the distance between them. Magic, magic, magic. Read: microsleep.

“Let me get that for you.”

_Hear his voice, check._

Alec was so terribly close, his face grew a little blury with the sudden tears in Magnus' eyes as another yawn tore his mouth apart, chasm so deep it felt like he might fall into himself and never come up. He didn’t even manage to lift a hand.  
“Excuse my rudeness, Alexander…” A slur of words growing out of tune song to his own ears and Alec’s smile returned, sitting quiet and calm in his face as he worked open the buttons on Magnus’ coat one by one to the very last. Magnus couldn’t tell if his mouth did over the numbness but his heart smiled at the sight, sleepy and pleased. He could feel Alec’s slow breaths in the way his chest rose to almost touch his, space non-existent between them; the way last traces of it were hitting his lips, angel wing brushing cheek. Sigh-like, Magnus inhaled deeply, swallowing another yawn, and felt himself consciously relax for the first time that night.

“Nothing to excuse. You’re exhausted,” Alec murmured then, almost too low to hear, and Magnus spent a good few seconds staring at him, every blink temptation to dose off, before his mind pulled all strings together and he realized what Alec was talking about. He’d already forgotten his own words. How utterly…absurd.  
Alec’s hands ran back up the now open coat and settled on Magnus’ shoulders with a gentle press of fingers, prompting him wordlessly to pirouet out of it. He took it slow, Alec’s palms sliding up his chest and across shoulders and back, soothing comfort, and, fingers curling below his collar, sinking into the warmth kept between layers like something all too welcome, like something Magnus wanted to melt into. A shiver of a different kind crept down his spine as he pulled his arms free with slight difficulty, making both of them laugh a little; the sheer amount of time they joked about how no sleeve was made to contain Magnus' arms overwhelming enough to need no explanation. Alec’s knuckles brushed past his shirt sleeves as he held onto the coat, leaving trails of sweet longing in their wake.

With a lazy wave of his hand, the coat flung itself from Alec’s onto a hanger by the entrance doors as Magnus completed his 360 to face him again. Boyfriend. _Love_. In the muted golden light of the loft’s entrance Alec’s eyes grew a sparkling kind of brown, like darkest wild honey and almost as sweet or maybe more so and _oh_ , how gladly Magnus sank into them. His mind went sluggish trying to come up with a better comparison but it was warmth, being looked at the way Alec was looking at him, in that moment, and always.  
Warmth settling right in his chest and filling him up to every last corner and the very brim, warmth of a kind that nobody but Alec had ever brought to where it now was, like this, curling up and pressing against his ribcage with how full it made him feel, keeping his heart entirely captive for months and months and hopefully - ever. Warmth that made being this exhausted a tolerable thing, warmth like a promise, like endless hugs and hottest showers and falling into bed like stone, with his face pressed to your chest and his mouth safe haven, knowing nothing would disturb you, knowing there was nowhere else to be. An “I wouldn’t mind having days like this forever if it meant coming back to you” kind of warmth, a warmth like home, melting sweet and tender in his mouth and dissolving any acidity left. Just then, overwhelming even in the haze, a need for it. A taste.

“So…are you…going to kiss me…or wha—t?”  
He sounded so much more tired than he’d wanted to, treacherous yawning trying to disrupt his proposition but the good thing was that even if Magnus was too worn out to do much more to fulfill his own request than lift his gaze properly, Alec was luckily not so. Widening smile growing huffed out laugh growing grin, inch of separation space growing a wonderful zero, pain in muscle growing ache in chest, full lips caught between his. Coming home. Remedy. _Kiss him, check._

*

Their mouths had parted for each other slow, like tired things do, all lazy and heavy and much too sweet and Alec had put a hand to either side of Magnus’ face and kissed him for a while that Magnus could put no time to: it could have been a minute or ten or eternity and Magnus wouldn’t have complained as the only thing he’d want his muscles to keep his body upright for in that moment and really, ever, was likely…this.  
This - Alec’s mouth on his, the weight of it grounding and molten, warm and good, like sleep. Sleep. Magnus had gotten lost, lips damp and kissed open, gaze unfocused across Alec’s face, only for a moment. Just as he would have passed out from the unhurried way he was being undone, Alec had pulled back to brush his thumbs along Magnus’ jaw, down his neck in gentlest affection, smiling a smile more beatific still, unbearably so.  
“Come on, I got something for you.”

Curiosity a brush of butterfly wings to the outskirts of his vast mind, map wiped clean like slate by the immediate combination of exhaustion and closeness, Magnus had let Alec grab his hands from where they were resting against Alec’s side, slide their fingers together and pull him on.

Now, the water’s surface was a sweet swirl of soapiness and misty forms painted as if on canvas like nebulous and yet utterly pleasant dreams of petal pinks and baby blues. Magnus didn’t catch most of them, with his elbows heavy against the bathtubs edge and his head heavier still - mind doing laps at turtle speed - leaned back, eyes closed, breaths even, as if he was asleep. He almost was. He _wanted_ to be.  
Between his legs, Alec’s knees were pressed up against the insides of his own, bent to leave room. The water, of just the right temperature, was as warm as it had been 30 minutes ago. Sometimes being a warlock had its perks. Scratch that. Always did.  
Soft piano jazz coming from another room and the sounds of a pen scribbling on paper lulled Magnus to sleep and just like that he drifted off, wrapped up in this blanket of marrow-mellowing heat and Alec’s presence, world zeroing down on nothing but the two of them, right there, floating, having all the time they wanted to snooze off and never wake again. After a while and quite gently, Alec’s knee nudged his, making the water splash on, prompted.  
“Hey…,” and when Magnus hummed in response a few moments later without moving or even opening his eyes (the _effort_ that would take), “…anyone else?”

“Yes.” He took his time answering, soaked up the water’s warmth, let his body let go of yet more tension with another shift of muscle and sorted through his muddled muddied thoughts until he found what he was looking for.  
“Nascha Hunt, a…warlock who came up here from…somewhere…just somewhere.” 

“They told you, didn’t they?” Alec sounded more amused than anything close to indignant, a fondness shining through the way the words rolled off his tongue and Magnus stretched his legs a little, calves pressing to Alec’s thighs.

“Of course she did but do I really need to remember the name of some match box sized city in…where was it…Utah?”

Sounding as mockingly offended as Magnus felt at the mere possibility of affirmation, the answer came.  
“Absolutely not.”

“I agree.”

Alec chuckled then, low in his throat, creating a little wave that swept warm up Magnus’ chest, making him want to sink into the water entirely. With a sigh he blinked his eyes open and, lowering both body farther into water and eyelids over eyes, regarded Alec on the other side of the small tub. Alec called it a one point five person tub. Magnus called it perfect. Not so secretly, Alec agreed and Magnus knew so much. How could he not, considering-  
A smile was tucked somewhere in Alec’s mouth corner as he paused, pen resting against his chin.  
“Nascha?”

“Yes. N-A-S-C-H-A. Navajo origin. It means…‘owl’ if I’m not mistaken.”

“Native American?”

“Mmhhh.”

There was a stretch of silence in which the words “Nascha Hunt, warlock, Utah” were supposedly written down and Magnus could feel his mind wander off again, settling somewhere between spaced out heavenly blankness the color of deepest night sky purple and the way the hair on Alec’s chest was clinging to it, dark and wet and thick, flattened slick by the water, disappearing somewhere below surface. He might have let his slumberous thoughts follow the promising trail if Alec had not looked up, then, expectantly, before pausing again as if caught on something about Magnus, staring.  
For an endless moment it was just that and then their gazes slipped, from molten eyes to parted lips, catching on messes of curling dark hair and heated, steam damp skin, to cheeks hot red; resting along collar bones and shoulders and all the way back up to meet eyes, slow, languid, taking their time, all appreciation, all drinking him in, as if for the first time. Alec’s bottom lip caught between his teeth and Magnus made a low noise in his throat, a sound echoing in the relative silence around them, echoing, more so, the sudden heaviness in the air. _God, I want you._  
Alec grinned as Magnus uncurled his fingers and shifted to keep his legs from spreading farther, breaking the moment less effectively than intended. A different kind of warmth settled deep against the base of his spine, and calmed.  
“What does she owe you?”

“I liked her...so more than I’ll demand. Say twenty pieces of gold of whatever quality as long as there’s at least some gold in them.”

Alec jotted down a small note and hummed quietly, anticipative.

“Demon summoning,” Magnus concluded after a little while, captivated by the way soapy water caught in the little crevice their legs formed where they were touching and Alec’s eyes left the paper yet again to fix on him - intensity that Magnus couldn’t entirely place.  
It was fueled by too many sources, it seemed, too much depth swirling in Alec’s hazel eyes, leaving Magnus, exhausted as he was, unsure of whether Alec was concerned or aroused or possibly…both. Probably so. Demon summoning, with connotation on his tongue. Dangerous business…for most. They both knew he wasn’t most.  
Magnus was obviously unharmed and Alec knew so much, considering they had undressed each other (even if Alec had done _most_ of the detail work like buttons and buckles and flies) when they had entered the bedroom, when Alec had led Magnus in by the hand and kissed him long with every item of clothing each of them discarded. Considering the bathroom had smelled like a lullaby and Magnus had climbed into the tub before Alec’s eyes, unblemished, the groan he had let out sliding into the warmth, scented and steaming and absolutely grandiose - a perfect cure - attesting only to how much he needed this and how grateful he was for this exact surprise; underneath it all, absurd since it was nothing that specific and yet…the very fact that Alec had had a blunt whisky divided into two ready on ice, the fact that pen and paper had been there before them, as if he’d known, the fact that, climbing into the tub after Magnus, careful not to splash around too much, Alec had slid all the way in for a single deep kiss before taking his place opposite…something about it simply felt like it. Being known. He didn’t say a word of it but Magnus’ chest felt tight in a way that made it hard to breathe and looking at him just made it worse.

Alec’s stare was met with a gaze that was leveled down to just short of challenging, or at least Magnus hoped that would be it since he had no idea how sleepiness affected any of his expressions but after a moment, Alec looked away with another, smaller smile, writing down two words and putting a very pointed full stop at the end of those.  
“This was the last one, right?”

“Yes, it was. Thank you, Alexand-”  
Magnus’ words were subtly cut off by the slap of the notepad hitting the bathroom floor just by the door, sliding and, by bumping right into it, coming to a halt. 

“Not for this. I like helping you. And this way, it will be less work remembering all the details later and since we have that dinner with the Iranian representatives at eight…” Alec trailed off, thoughtful, yet when Magnus looked back, he let his hands slide under water and pulled Magnus’ feet into his lap, arranging his long legs in a way that let him rest Magnus’ calf against his own. With the first press of fingers to the ball of his foot, Magnus groaned again, reclining his head back and closing his eyes. This was possibly the only thing to make it better, still.

With care, Alec switched one foot for another after a while and Magnus sighed in deepest content, words building in his chest.  
“You’re too good to me.”

Pressing the ball of his palm along tense muscle, Alec soothed a cramp down Magnus’ calf and, hands sliding smoothly, pushed his thumbs to the ball of Magnus’ foot and down towards his heel, eliciting another noise of delight. When Alec spoke, his voice was full of that certain brand of impatience that only came out when Magnus was saying something laughably ridiculous, and even in that one word, the click of his tongue was as present as if he’d have made it audible. Loving, full of unspoken things, with a touch of ‘don’t make me kiss you quiet’.

“Magnus.”

Magnus wanted to retort something, pointed and expressing all the things he needed Alec to hear but by now, his mind was an unraveled vast ocean with a net too loose for words and in the end, nothing made it out of his mouth but a sweet sound, almost moan, at the apt way Alec’s fingers were digging into his feet, making his muscles relax all the way up to his ears, pleasure running in prickling chills up and down his spine. He wanted to at least say just that, remark how he hadn’t thought of his ear muscles in a long time, but Alec was first again, taking Magnus, by choosing of all moments that exact one, a little by surprise.

“I love you.”

Like anchor the words sank, and below the water, Magnus searched around blindly until his fingers found Alec’s leg and closed gently around his ankle, thumb dragging slick and heavy and slow over skin. Lifting his head gradually to look up again, Magnus caught Alec’s gaze and they stared at each other, hands stilling, sinking into each other’s warmth and the feeling of it, washing over them like waves. Of him, just him, being right there, so close, at any moment able to get closer still. Of that space between them, shared like they both owned it, like none of them did. Of the way he looked just then, a little worn out, entirely comfortable in this bathtub too small for them both, with his hair such an unhurried mess, something so easy about the way those words had left his mouth, as if there was nothing else. There wasn’t.

“I love you, too.”

Magnus didn’t have to watch Alec to know it would be there but he did, waiting for it, wanting it - appearing like the moon peaking up over the New York City skyline on a clear night, a smile, bashful, full-lashed, innocent, as lovely as ever, crooked and shining diamond bright. More than anything else, taking Magnus’ breath away still. After a while, his thumb picked up the gentle caress again.

“That dinner…remind me, how many guest are we exp-”

As if he knew, and Magnus swore he did, Alec crept closer then, water splashing in soft sounds up the bathtubs walls, to interrupt him in the best way possible and when their mouths fell together, already open and so gorgeously warm - tongue sliding against tongue, wet and hot and addictive, hazing thoughts to drift off into the nothingness that was this - with Alec’s hand on Magnus’ chest and Magnus’ own sliding up to rest in the back of Alec’s neck, it wasn’t for the last time that night.

*

Magnus really didn’t have to see the future then to know he would fall asleep the exact way he had dreamt of all the way home since that he did, deeply and all too fast, sunk into bed with Alec’s weight biggest comfort so very close by his side; no beginnings nor endings, just most wholesome warmth and the sounds of Alec’s even breaths pulling him under. Nothing and no one, just them.

**Author's Note:**

> all i wanted was like........magnus being taken care of, thats all, dont ask (im like....post this on tumbls hell or nah...........likely nah)  
> For the curious, Nascha Hunt has wings for her warlock mark and Alec will ask about her once they wake up. Also, the Iranians are warlocks wanting to arrange a trade. There's five of them and they are all fucking magical and terribly old. Magnus knows exactly how many there will be bc he's been planning that dinner for weeks and Alec knows so much but God, they love to play their games. The dinner will go really well and Alec will feel entirely out of place but only bc he doesn't speak whatever Magnus and those warlocks will be, which is, you guessed it, Avestan.


End file.
